


Moment

by pastelNothing



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Atmospheric, Cuddling, M/M, Very sweet and sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 14:24:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17551385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastelNothing/pseuds/pastelNothing
Summary: Fjord was bargaining, saddled up on a chair talking to a broad woman with thick dark hair - water never phased the half-orc, and it only made Caleb more curious. His eyes fell on Clay, at ease closer to the fire, warming himself with his mug of tea and carrying on a conversation with Mollymauk, who met Caleb's eyes. Caleb let himself linger, if only for a moment, before tucking his head down and going back to watching the fire.Caleb summoned Frumpkin when he saw, in his periphery, Mollymauk making his way over to him. The purring bengal gave him something to focus with when the colorful tiefling stole a spot next to him, making himself comfortable by crossing one leg over the other and leaning back in the chair.“It’s nice, isn’t it? To have a moment of peace.” He sounded tired, though everyone did after the traveling and fighting, all of them needing a rest. A moment to simply exist.





	Moment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [prettybent from the widomauk server](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=prettybent+from+the+widomauk+server).



> I was picked to help fill requests for the widomauk fic exchange and I was a bit rushed with real life things but I'm very happy with this little fic I wanted to put out. 
> 
> This is for prettybent on the widomauk server, I hope they like it!

All he needed was a moment. 

Outside it had been raining for what felt like days. It truly was days, by Caleb’s clock. Four days, eight hours, twenty seven minutes and six, seven, eight, nine seconds, and on. It had felt like morning, but the sun was all but hidden in thick clouds, and everyone that had come into the tavern looked soaked and miserable. A fire wamed from the center of the room - a hearth crackling and filling the space with the smell of damp wood and warm pine. From his place just close enough to the fire, Caleb's hands felt less cold. His body didn’t ache and the bruises from their last bout with bandits didn't hurt so much. He looked around the room to his compatriots, to the Mighty Nein, and found them just the same. 

Jester and Nott were wringing out their clothes, hair braided while it was damp because Jester wanted to try a new hairstyle. Beau and Yasha were shoulder to shoulder, though he guessed if Beau hadn't been about to fall asleep she would have been flailing about. Fjord was bargaining, saddled up on a chair talking to a broad woman with thick dark hair - water never phased the half-orc, and it only made Caleb more curious. His eyes fell on Clay, at ease closer to the fire, warming himself with his mug of tea and carrying on a conversation with Mollymauk, who met Caleb's eyes. Caleb let himself linger, if only for a moment, before tucking his head down and going back to watching the fire. 

Caleb summoned Frumpkin when he saw, in his periphery, Mollymauk making his way over to him. The purring bengal gave him something to focus with when the colorful tiefling stole a spot next to him, making himself comfortable by crossing one leg over the other and leaning back in the chair. 

“It’s nice, isn’t it? To have a moment of peace.” He sounded tired, though everyone did after the traveling and fighting, all of them needing a rest. A moment to simply exist. “Fjord is getting us all food too, he’s such a dear.” Caleb followed the turn of Mollymauk’s head as tankards and gold were exchanged, and not long afterwards plates of food were dished out, with Jester eagerly moving to help serve everyone. Each plate had similar items, dolled out with a hunk of bread, cheese and ale for all but Caduceus. Frumpkin only then moved from Caleb’s lap as he set the plate down to cut into the meat. The lamb was plump and heavy, braised in wine, pushed against roasted potatoes and broccoli. 

Each bite was savory and warm, as Caleb took a bite of cheese and smeared the bread over gravy, washing it down with an ale that hinted of strawberries. After several bites Caleb stopped himself, afraid he would gorge himself on food this good. He saw Mollymauk felt the same, sipping his drink and giving Caleb a small smile. It did no harm to do nothing but smile back, even with the butterflies fluttering against his ribs and in his lungs. A meal was eaten in slow bites, allowing the flavors to mix and meld between the earthy tubers and soft sweet cheese that melted against the bread and meat. Caleb was quietly proud of himself, two thirds of his plate gone, and he washed away the taste with strawberry ale and offered the rest to Nott. 

That warmth was felt tenfold with a full belly and the knowledge that not a hundred feet away was a bed waiting for him. Caleb failed to keep his eyes open, dozing several times before slender fingers wrapped around his upper arm. Mollymauk smiled down at him, and were his eyes softer in the light? 

“Come on, we’re all falling asleep sitting here. Might as well use the beds we’ve got.” 

Mollymauk took his time leading Caleb from the warmth of the fire that continues to linger, his lavender hand over Caleb's dingy brown coat. As Caleb complied and followed behind him, Molly’s hand lowered, sliding down over his elbow and to his forearm. Ringed fingers wrapped around his wrist and Caleb held back the urge to shift, to take the man’s hand. With how few rooms there were they had to double up; Fjord and Caduceus, Yasha and Nott, Jester and Beau, Caleb and Mollymauk. They had bid each other goodnight with a future plan of meeting for breakfast and hoping for the rain to break. 

Caleb closed the door behind them as Molly moved to sit at one of the thin beds to unlace his shoes. Following suit, Caleb felt almost too tired but managed to get his shoes off, tossing his coat to the foot of the bed and carefully slinging his book holsters over a post. Wind rattled the windows, shaking the board and Caleb took the blankets and hopes they’d cover him enough for the coming chill. The one candle lighting the room was snuffed out with a wave of Caleb’s hand and in the darkness the sounds of the tavern thrummed below them. Singing had started, muffled instruments and maybe some dancing, given how the heavy wood shifted and the noises of feet scuffed the ground.

“Caleb.” 

Molly’s voice roused him, making him blink into focus his lavender face and peacock feathers. Sluggish he moved, rolling his body over to fully face the tiefling, and Caleb proped a hand on his jaw in an attempt to not fall asleep. When his vision had settled on the man before him, Molly then reached out, wiggling fingers expectantly as Caleb looked confused for a moment. 

“I want to hold your hand.”

He let it register, rattle in his head as connections slowly fired and a blush blossomed under his jaw and crawled over his cheeks. The song below them changed from something slow to a faster, harder tempo, and some of the floor beneath them shivered as the rowdy drinkers below took to moving and joining the song. Caleb untucked the hand and let his head fall against the pillows, reaching to brush his calloused and scarred fingers over lavender, over tattoos and rings and scars. Their fingers mingled and twined, and Caleb heard Molly purr. 

Time passed in an odd way, where they were comfortable in the silence, Caleb finding himself relaxing to the touches and coaxing of the hard tips of taloned nails. Molly let Caleb explore the planes of crisscrossed scars and the snake’s head on the top of his hand. When he asked if Caleb wanted to cuddle, all he got was a wordless nod, as room was made in the bed. 

Warmth is something Caleb no longer fought for, with his back pressed against Molly’s chest. Every seventh and tenth beat of their hearts Caleb could feel that there was a chance they might be beating at the same time. He hoped so. 

All he needed was a moment.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank for reading! 
> 
> I want to thank Tommy for being my amazing beta and helping me with all sorts of shenanigans while writing this at midnight/one am.


End file.
